


Corazón De Mi Alma

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chichen Itza, Community: hp_drizzle, F/M, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, Mexico, Rain, Travel, cenotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: Harry and Hermione travel to Mexico for the repatriation of a cursed Mayan artifact.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 77
Collections: HP Drizzle Fest 2020





	Corazón De Mi Alma

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Drizzlefest! This was written for prompt #56. Special thanks goes to **divagonzo** for the plot idea. Extra big loves because I know it’s not your ship. I truly appreciated the help. Also to **Apolla** for helping me sort through some slang (which I ended up not using but it was helpful anyhow!) and of course forever loves to **cryptaknight** for beta work. Title and any spoken Spanish is google translate, so apologies there to any native speakers
> 
> Coverpage image credit: **LumosLyra**

☀☀☀☀☀

The automated doors opened with a light hiss. One by one the group of government officials (both muggle and magical) and museum historians pushed onward through the airport. Behind them followed a small line of aides who maneuvered locked cases which were sealed with tape embossed with the words _The British Museum_. Harry trailed behind the group, pulling his own wheeled suitcase. Directly in front of him, Hermione chatted animatedly with Thaddeus Bose from the museum's Collection Care looking like she hadn't just spent thirteen hours in transit. Meanwhile, Harry couldn't remember the last time he felt this worn out from doing absolutely nothing.

It was his own fault, he admitted to himself, though he would never say it aloud. Hermione had warned him that the trip was long and that he ought to try and sleep on the plane. But who in their right mind could sleep? They were stuck in a pressurized metal tube, thousands of miles above the ground! Brooms and thestrals were one thing. This was entirely different and completely out of his control. It was a situation with which he had absolutely no experience thanks to the Dursleys never taking him on any of their holidays.

His hand still ached from gripping the arm rest nearly the whole way.

Hermione looked back at him and raised her eyebrows. Harry straightened and forced out a smile.

She excused herself from Bose and paused in her step, waiting for him to catch up.

"You look awful," she said quietly, resuming her step.

"Gee, thanks," Harry said flatly, rubbing his hand across his face. 

She reached out and touched his elbow. "You could take off to the hotel for a few hours. We're not going to be able to do the magical handoff for a couple of days. The paperwork still hasn't gone through with the _Cámara de Magia_ and won't until we've lifted the active curses. It's just going to be a meet-and-greet today." 

Harry rolled his eyes slightly. Of course the paperwork hadn't gone through. It wasn't even remotely surprising. It didn't matter what nationality they were. Magical governments were always so bloody slow when it came to the important things. When the British Museum announced it was repatriating some of their collection (though not everything because apparently even the contents being admittedly stolen from other cultures, people were "still looking at it" and that seemed to be important), the Department of Mysteries had to get involved. It turned out that the museum didn't realise that some of their pieces were actually heavily cursed and needed magical transport. Hermione, a leading expert in dismantling unknown curses, had worked tirelessly for months picking apart some of the magic, but had run into a roadblock with the spells not untangling. 

After countless letters back and forth between governments, it was determined that the remainder of the curse-breaking needed to be done on site. In Mexico.

Harry had just wanted out of the office. 

Cases had slowed substantially over the last year with the sharp decline in active dark wizards. Harry's team had been assigned to monitor illegal imports and he was so tired of looking over shipment records or interviewing people who were the left hands that didn't know what the right hands were doing or just cataloging evidence. So when the opportunity came to escort Hermione on a curse-breaking venture and leave his desk behind for a few weeks, he'd leapt at the chance.

And that was the only reason, he insisted.

The job was pretty straightforward. He was there to keep the magical artifacts and safe. He was there to keep the curse-breakers, both British and Mexican, safe. The museum had its own security entourage, but they were mostly there to protect the contents of what was being repatriated to the Mayan Museum of Cancún. Those were more on the valuable side and less on the 'the unknown magic could possibly kill you side' so Harry didn't have to concern himself with any of that.

"I see that you and your entourage made it through customs with no trouble."

Harry was caught off guard—damn jet lag had him really off his game—and his hand immediately went to his side, fingers curling around the wand that had sat undetected through the whole trip. Hermione reached out and touched his arm again, giving her head a shake before she turned to face the owner of the voice.

And she smiled.

Harry frowned.

"Oh it's so good to finally see you in person," she said, reaching out to shake the other man's hand. "I really have to thank you for the suggestions of spellwork on the artifacts. I think if we'd been using strictly European glamours, we never would have gotten past the scanners." Hermione gestured between the two men. "This is Miguel Flores López, Harry. He's the curator liaison between the Mayan Museum and the _Cámara de Magia_."

Harry hesitated for only a moment when Miguel held out his hand. Neither Miguel, nor Hermione, gave any indication that the pause was noticed.

Miguel flashed an all too white smile and reached to take one of Hermione's bags before gesturing to the exit. He gave some instructions in Spanish to the porters that were waiting just outside, pointing at a few of the boxes that needed to be loaded into the vans with the Mayan Museum logo embossed on the doors. The curators from the British Museum followed the cases and loaded themselves and their bags into the pair of vans. Hermione and Harry kept back, a lone crate under supervision between them.

Pinching the slightly open neck of his shirt between his fingers, Harry flapped the fabric to create a small breeze. He'd not expected the air to be so thick with humidity and could already feel uncomfortable beads of sweat gathering in the middle of his back.

"You're a wizard, Harry," Hermione said under her breath, leaning over the case. "There _are_ cooling charms, remember..." She let out a soft chuckle and pulled back when Harry swatted lightly at her.

"I'm fine," he said, emphasizing 'fine' a little too hard and in that way that was completely avoiding how 'not fine' one was.

Hermione opened her mouth and Harry assumed it was to offer to do the charm for him, which probably would have been worse because what Auror needed help with basic charmwork? But her offer was interrupted by the return of Miguel. He flicked his fingers at a spot in the "No Standing" zone and the air shimmered a bit before a layer of disillusionment charms melted away and a beat-up looking sedan appeared. Harry glanced at one of the Muggle airport security, unsure why he was disappointed that it hadn't been noticed.

Popping open the boot, Miguel started to lift the case. Harry gave his head a bit of a shake and moved to the other side, helping the other man lift it into the back of the car. It would have been easier to levitate, but Hermione had already reminded him of the dangers of excessive spells being placed on the artifacts. Once the case was nestled safely with a suitcase on either side and the boot secured with a few discreet spells that wouldn't impact the contents inside, Miguel moved to the passenger's door and opened it for Hermione.

Harry found himself relegated to the back seat.

☀☀☀☀☀

The knock on his hotel room door came far too early in the morning for Harry's liking. He rolled out of bed, scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes and padded over to the door, meeting a fresh-faced Hermione on the other side. Craning his neck, he looked at the clock that he'd swept off the side table onto the floor when the alarm rang too early. It was still too early. With a yawn, he looked back at Hermione who was giving his bare chest a strange look before meeting his eyes.

"How long to be dressed and ready?" She asked. "If we don't go now, we have to wait until the evening hours at Chichen Itza when Muggles can't visit."

Harry started to ask what the difference was, but there was something about the expression on her face that said he should just keep it to himself and get ready. So he did and less than twenty minutes later, he was in the lobby, his hair dripping and his shirt collar wet. Though the moment they were outside, he was regretting his choice of denims and henley shirt.

"Didn't you pack any light summer clothing?" she asked, giving him a side look as they stepped down to the curb.

"This _is_ my summer clothing." 

Harry looked down at himself uncomfortably and then over at her. Whereas he had brought along clothing that he would typically wear during the summer while on assignment in the northern parts of England and Europe, Hermione seemed to have taken a different approach. Instead of her regular office trousers and blouse, she'd taken to light, billowy skirts and equally billowy blouses. Of course, skirts and blouses were not an option for him and he was irritated that he hadn't thought to find new clothing that would be more suitable for the climate. With a sigh, he pushed up his sleeves until they were bunched up over his elbows.

"I'll be fine," he said stubbornly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering something about how he was just as bad as Ron before grabbing his hand and dragging him back up to the lobby of the hotel.

Ten minutes later, he found himself in a touristy shop down the road that the concierge had recommended with Hermione picking out a few pairs of khaki shorts and some linen button up shirts. Yanking the tags off a top and a bottom, she pushed him into a changing room and then he heard her march off to the register at the front. Harry changed and breathed deep when the air hit his bare legs and arms then rejoined her at the front of the shop, tucking the shirt into the waist of his shorts and grabbing a belt off a rack. He handed over some pesos while looping the belt around his waist before he turned to Hermione for assessment.

She gave him an approving look and held out her hands for the denims and henley which she shoved into the paper bag with his other new clothes. Once they were outside, she unzipped the little white purse that had been bouncing against her hip and shoved the whole thing inside, letting it disappear into its magically expanded depths. Little flashes of memory from when they were seventeen jumped into his thoughts and Harry gave his head a little shake to clear them away.

"Come on then," she said, pointing toward the hotel. "Miguel will be waiting for us."

Sure enough, good old Miguel was waiting with the same car that he'd driven from the airport. That bright smile flashed again at Hermione, which added to Harry's slight irrational irritation with the man, and he opened the door. Soon they were on the road, Hermione in the front chatting about what history she knew of the muggle side of the Mayan pyramid and Miguel going into detail about the magical side and what the muggle tourists never got to see. 

Harry was once again relegated to the back seat with nothing much to add to the conversation.

"So you really don't apparate to the site?" he asked finally when there was a break in the conversation between the two.

Miguel shook his head and glanced at Harry in the rear-view mirror. "The magic at the Pyramid is too wild and we want to preserve the historical significance, so wards to tamp it down have never been enacted. However, there were too many instances of splinching that the _Cámara de Magia_ had to enact a law forbidding all magical transport to any historical site."

"Oh Harry, don't you remember in History of Magic when Binns talked about the laws on apparition that the Ministry tried to enact on the area surrounding Stonehenge?" Hermione turned in her seat, her hair blowing across her face from the breeze of the open window. Without thinking, Harry reached out and swept it out of the way. 

"There's not a lot of Binns' classes that I remember," he said with a smile, thinking about those easier days when it was just boring classes where he and Ron had had to fight to stay awake. Back when things were not as life or death as they had been during those final years. Before classes became secondary to everything else he was dealing with.

Hermione flapped her hand. "Well, it was all very similar. The difference for us was that, as per usual, our ministry took too long to get the law passed. When they finally agreed and went to enact anti-apparition spells, they found that the magic had been thinned out so much by muggle archeological digs and tourists that it wasn't needed."

Harry opened his mouth to make a comment, but Hermione's attention had gone back to Miguel and peppering him with questions about the Mayan pyramid and the logistics of dismantling curses when there were so many muggles about. Harry gave his head a small shake, labeling the slight turn in his stomach as motion sickness, and settled against the door of the car. His forehead eventually pressed against the window and he looked up at the bright blue sky before glancing at the passing roadside. In the front seat, Hermione continued to talk. He was used to her enthusiasm, especially when it came to learning new magic, and he actually enjoyed listening to her go on as she did. It was infectious.

When they arrived at the pyramid site, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Nearly two and a half hours since their departure and he felt like his legs might never unfold from their cramped position. 

He clambered out of the vehicle, muttering about brooms under his breath until he felt Hermione give him a soft swat to his shoulder. The look on her face was enough to put a stop to his small complaints and he gave her a sheepish look. A bottle of water was offered by Miguel and Harry took it with a nod, cracking the seal and taking a long swig from the magically chilled liquid.

"We're about half an hour to the site opening to the general public." Miguel gestured to an unassuming gate at the end of the parking lot. 

A few faded signs hung across the rusted metal and as they approached, Harry could feel the warning magic buzzing around his head and along his skin. He gave his arms a rub and rolled his shoulders.

"I thought they didn't put up any wards on the site," he said, leaning towards Hermione as he spoke.

"It's not new magic. It's the ancient magic still resonating over the site. Even with the countless tourist traffic, it hasn't faded in the slightest." she said, her tone fascinated and a wide smile on her face. Hermione was giddy with anticipation and Harry couldn't help but return her smile. 

A gruff looking man with mirrored sunglasses crossed his arms as they drew near, but Miguel gave introductions in Spanish before holding up what looked like an ID badge. The guard pulled down the glasses by their bridge and gave the badge a read before stepping aside. Miguel said something about going to see the more popular pyramid once they were finished planning out the curse breaking.

"We're directly beneath the Great Ball Court. These chambers are inaccessible to the public and are not discussed in academic circles so there are only a handful of people who even know they exist," Miguel explained. "Even your average witch or wizard doesn't have access. Only approved officials from the government or the museum are allowed to be even granted the knowledge."

"So once we have approval, we'll be bringing the mask here to break the curses," Hermione said to Harry before her attention shifted back to Miguel. "Will the antechamber be sufficient for breaking the magic on the museum pieces?"

The pair moved through the room, talking about preparations and paperwork, leaving Harry to stand by himself. He looked up at the dark ceiling and tucked his hands into his pockets. On the other side of the room, Hermione laughed at something Miguel had said, reaching out to touch his arm with her hand. Harry watched the pair of them for a moment before saying something about going topside to have a look around.

Back out in the sunshine, Harry was surprised at how different in temperature the hidden rooms had been to the main part of the site. He wandered around by himself for a moment, enjoying the quiet. It didn't last long however as the gates opened somewhere and tourists began to wander into view. Harry soon found himself on a bench beneath a tree he couldn't identify and took a seat, stretching out his legs. He watched as people came and went taking photographs of the historic structures all around him while following tour guides leading the way while speaking a number of different languages.

"I suppose it's not terribly interesting to wait around while we just talk about preparations," Hermione said, taking a seat next to him.

Harry looked at his watch, surprised that he'd been sitting there for a good two hours. "The curse-breaking is your department. I'm just the escort," he said with a half grin. "Didn't want to get in the way."

She dug around, elbow deep, in her little bag before pulling out a hairbrush and a few coloured ties. "It's going to be a lot of prep-work for the next few days. Miguel says there's a hiccup at the _Cámara de Magia_ and won't approve the curse-breaking until the middle of next week." She ran the brush through her hair, frowning at the frizz that had formed in the humidity, before tying it up into a messy topknot. "There's loads of things to do back in Cancún. You don't have to come along and be bored every day. Especially since this is somewhat of a holiday."

Before Harry realised what he was doing, he agreed with her. The next day he stayed at the hotel, just seeing her to the road where he watched her get into that old sedan and drive off with Bright Smile Miguel. It continued like that for the next few days and every time he watched the car disappear into the traffic crawl, Harry wondered if maybe he should go along. Just in case. In case of what, he didn't know. But just... in case.

That's not to say he didn't find anything to do. He wandered the streets of the city and was only "liberated" of his wallet once by pickpockets. Luckily he was better at summoning than they were at stealing and managed to get it back. A few hundred pesos lighter, but still mostly intact. After that he made sure to keep his pockets magically sealed. The last thing he needed was to have something important, like his auror identification, taken and possibly exposed to the world.

The headlines would be none too kind if he was met with an international incident to explain when he returned home.

Plus Ron and the other aurors would take the mickey out of him for months if he was that careless.

Every evening, he'd meet Hermione at the curb and they'd go find something for supper. She enthusiastically chattered about the curse-breaking preparations between bites of posole or tortas or whatever they'd found that night. Harry didn't have much to contribute, but he enjoyed listening and tried not to let a sour expression form whenever she mentioned Miguel or how good he was at curse-breaking.

He didn't know why he was so irritated by the other man who had been nothing but friendly to the both of them. At first he'd just pushed it off as being grumpy with jet lag, but it had continued after he'd adjusted. He didn't hate the guy. He didn't even really dislike the guy. He just didn't like that the conversation always seemed to revert back to 'Miguel said this' or 'And then Miguel suggested a different spell' and 'Miguel is so knowledgeable about Latin American magic' and something inside of Harry seemed to seize up and get irritated.

"So do you want to go?" Hermione asked, breaking through the thoughts that had been a thousand miles away.

Harry took an enormous bite of a dessert empanada to muffle his, "Huh?"

He did like listening to her. He did. He just hadn't been doing it at that very moment.

One of Hermione's eyebrows lifted slightly and shook her head at his obvious scramble to cover up his lack of attention. "Miguel's niece just turned fifteen and he invited us to the quinceañera tomorrow... Well not the whole thing. He said we didn't need to sit through a Catholic mass service, just come to the party afterward. It's a very important occasion in a young girl's life and a whole day event."

Harry swallowed his mouthful and had every intention of declining. There was a distinct lack of nice clothes in his bag and he didn't feel right just showing up at a fancy, important party in shorts and trainers. But there was a bright expression on Hermione's face. It was an expression that reminded him of her excitement over the Yule Ball as she'd descended the stairs with her hand on Viktor's arm. She wanted to go. She wanted to do something fun and entirely unrelated to work or the ministry or curse-breaking or museums.

And quite suddenly, the idea of telling her no was the very last thing on his mind.

"What time would we need to be there?" he asked, signalling to the server for the cheque.

☀☀☀☀☀

Harry sat in one of the wicker lobby chairs, turning a brochure about cenote tours over in his hand. The lobby buzzed with polite chatter as a group of tourists checked themselves in. Harry glanced up a few times to chuckle at the bellhop's exasperation when a few of the new guests tried to wrench away their bags and decline the services, not wanting to be a bother. One of them had a red and white leafed belt around their case and he shook his head with a smile.

Sometimes Canadians were just too goddamn _polite_.

"The taxi is waiting outside for you," said the young man at the concierge counter to his left.

Harry got to his feet and tucked the brochure into his back pocket. Leaving the overly polite mass of people behind, he stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and jogged over to the waiting car, pressing some peso notes into the driver's hand. The man said something in rapid Spanish that Harry didn't understand. Before he could even look around, an employee of the hotel came over and with some quick translation (just waiting for his friend, it'll only be a few more minutes), the driver got back into his car and started fiddling with the radio.

"Well _that_ took a lot longer than I would have liked," Hermione said from behind Harry. "Someone kept holding open the lift for other guests to get on. It took forever to get down three floors."

"Canadians," Harry said by way of explanation as he turned and his mouth parted in a small 'o'.

From what he'd been told about these quinceañera parties, mostly from the young man pulling trousers and different dress shirts from the shelves at the more upscale shop to which the concierge had directed him, Harry had been expecting Hermione to be wearing something a bit nicer than the casual skirts and blouses she'd been sporting. He hadn't been expecting the knee length dress in which she was currently dressed. The material seemed to ripple and shine like water in dark blues and blacks as she moved. He looked down at himself and the few creases he'd not been able to erase from where the shirt had been folded at the shop and then back up at her.

How she'd managed to go from regular Hermione to stunning in such a short time, Harry didn't know.

He gave his head a bit of a shake and then moved to open the car door for her.

Honestly, Harry felt a bit stupid. He shouldn't have been at all surprised at this change or even caught off guard. He'd seen Hermione in nice outfits before and he knew she was fully capable of this change in appearance. She'd gone all out with her dress robes at the Yule Ball in fourth year. She'd worn formal clothing at Bill's Wedding. Her robes had been toned down and less fancy at the memorial services in the years following the Hogwarts battle, but they'd still been nice.

This seemed different somehow.

Hermione leaned forward in the seat and handed a piece of paper with an address on it to the taxi driver.

When they arrived at their destination, the driver eyed them with concern. Harry didn't blame him though; he couldn't see through the wards and for all intents and purposes, it looked as if he was dropping an innocent pair of foreigners off at a deserted construction site. To the driver must have felt like he was going to end up on the wrong end of an abduction interrogation and he started to change the car into gear. Before anything could truly happen, however, Harry's wand was out and the man was frozen in place.

"I really don't like doing that to muggles," he said. "Especially when it's only for a party."

"Me either, but trying to convince him with the language barrier would have been a nightmare." Hermione drew out her own wand. 

A specialized oblivate to erase the last half an hour from the driver's mind and a pile of pesos on the seat later, they were both walking through the construction site and beyond the shimmering ward that spanned the unfinished building. Beyond the spell, the thrum of music and conversation was like a wave washing over both of them and the space went from industrial construction to festively decorated garden in an instant. Hermione pointed out the birthday girl, elaborately dressed, hitting small piñatas dangling from a large, illuminated tree.

"Hermione! Harry! You found us!" Miguel called out from the other side of a few occupied tables.

Hermione held up a wrapped present which had obviously been tucked away in her purse and then turned to Harry. "I'm going to drop this off with the other gifts and then go over a few things with Miguel."

Before he could answer, she'd hurried off, her rippling water dress bouncing all around her legs. Harry took a step to follow, but was cut off by a few of the younger relatives zooming around on small training brooms as they passed a football back and forth between them. One of the younger boys gave the ball a sound kick backwards with his heel and it bounced toward Harry. He stopped it under his foot and then made as if he was debating who to pass it back to.

One of the other boys gave him a scrutinizing look before his eyes went wide. He dropped his broom and dashed over to where Harry stood.

"Tío Miguel said you were coming," the young boy breathed in perfect English. before turning to the other children and calling for them. "It's Harry Potter!" He whirled around and faced Harry again. "We learned about you in school!"

Soon Harry was flanked by half a dozen children. Concerned that he was taking the attention away from the birthday girl, Harry shot a 'help me' look over to where Hermione and Miguel were chatting. The former gave him an amused look, laughing behind her hand and the latter mouthed 'it's okay', holding up his finger and thumb in a circle before giving a thumbs up. The birthday girl didn't seem to notice, or maybe it was that she didn't seem to mind, that he'd drawn the attention of the younger crowd, keeping them occupied.

The boy who introduced himself as Jorge and seemed to be the de facto leader of the younger kids, dragged over a folding chair and then proceeded to direct everyone to sit. Soon Harry found himself answering all manner of questions being asked with Jorge acting as translator between him and the group. Because they wanted to know _everything_.

The giant spiders? They were real?

Did he really ride the back of a dragon?

Fly a car?

What was Ron Weasley like? Did he really play the best game of chess?

How did you win?

Harry answered everything, within reason. The youngest child was probably around five or six and he couldn't imagine describing the final battle and some of the nastier bits would be appropriate for that age bracket. After a while, the group ran out of things to ask and while the story of his Uncle Vernon's sister blowing up like a balloon and bouncing out into the back garden before floating off had them squealing with laughter, Harry didn't have much more he could talk about without worrying that he was going to send them to bed with nightmares.

A man that Harry didn't know came by and started handing all the children sparklers, tapping the end with his wand. The kids soon forgot about stories of mermaids and thestrals and began chasing each other around the tables, trailing little shooting stars in their wake.

Harry sat back on his chair and casually searched the crowd for Hermione, spotting her near the small band of guitar players. He frowned a little when he noticed Miguel's mouth moving and gesturing to the open spot where other guests were dancing to the music.

"Señor?" a quiet voice spoke from his left shoulder.

Harry glanced over to see Miguel's niece standing almost beside him. An older woman had her hand folded around the younger girl's arm and Harry immediately got to his feet and offered her the chair. She chuckled and patted his leg as she sat down heavily. Harry gave the girl in the frothy pink ballgown a smile.

He put up a hand. "Hang on. I've been practicing this," he said, clearing his throat and then putting one arm at his waist and the other at his back he gave her a bow. "Feliz cumpleaños, senorita."

"Gracias. You pronounced that very well," She said in accented English, grinning widely and waving her hand to a young man with a large camera. 

There was a bit of back and forth in Spanish between the birthday girl and the photographer before she turned back to him and beckoned with her finger. Before Harry knew what was happening, she reached up and pushed back his hair, moving it until his scar was visible. She must have seen the look on his face because she quickly assured him that it was just so that she could prove it was Harry Potter when she looked back on the photos of tonight and not because she wanted to spread the photos around to all the newspapers.

Harry found himself flushing because that had been exactly what he'd been thinking.

A few photos later and she bounced away, the man with the camera following in her wake. Harry dragged over another chair and took a seat beside the older woman who had stayed behind. He searched the crowd again and spotted Hermione being dipped low as her and Miguel spun around the softly lit dance space. A frown crept onto his face and he dropped forward, forearms resting against his knees.

The older woman beside him said something he didn't understand and patted his arm with her hand.

"It's not that I don't trust her," he said with a shrug, knowing the older woman wasn't going to understand him anyway. "And if she likes him... then who am I to say anything against it? They like a lot of the same stuff and she does like learning about new things, so him teaching her different spells... " He glanced over at the older woman. "You know it's my birthday tomorrow? She hasn't even brought it up and I was going to ask if she wanted to go see one or two of the cenotes in the area. But she's been so busy that I don't even think she realises what day it is."

The older woman gave him a kind look and then waved to a girl about five or six in a bright red party dress. The girl dashed across the grass and flung her arms around the older woman. Words were exchanged between the two before the younger girl turned to Harry.

"My Abuela likes you." Her English just as good as Jorge's had been earlier. "She says you are very handsome. My name is Letica and this," she held up a doll elaborately dressed in traditional Mexican clothing, "is Josefina. My brother said you're very famous and fought a dragon all by yourself." She eyed him skeptically as if she was waiting for Harry to say it wasn't true so she could run over and scold her brother.

"Well..." Harry said, thinking for a moment. "It wasn't exactly _fighting_ a dragon. More like flying on a broom very quickly so I could take away an egg I was supposed to capture. But it did try to set me on fire."

Leticia's eyes went wide and she squeezed her doll tightly. Her mouth opened to ask more questions, but the older woman interrupted her with a question. Or a statement. Harry wasn't quite sure. The two went back and forth for a while before Abuela said something and gestured to him, indicating that she wanted the young girl to translate.

"Abuela says..." She stopped and frowned a little before looking back at the other woman. "I don't know why... but she says you shouldn't keep looking at her if you're not going to tell her your feelings." Her small cheeks went pink and she said something to Abuela that Harry didn't understand before running off with the doll tucked under her arm.

The older woman chuckled and then leaned on her cane. Harry got to his feet and helped her to stand. She reached out and patted Harry on the cheek before wandering off. Harry watched her depart and he was sure that if anyone looked his way they would see just how baffled he must have looked. Feelings? There wasn't anyone... okay sure he wasn't terribly pleased with all the time that Hermione was spending with Miguel. But that was just how the job worked and she did have important work to do. And sure he was feeling a little useless and left out, but it wasn't his project. And he didn't mind that she was going off every morning with Miguel.

Though maybe he would have liked to be asked to come along.

 _She did ask you to accompany her on this trip,_ a voice inside his head pointed out.

But that was because she needed a DoMLE escort.

_You jumped at the chance._

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He had agreed the moment she'd suggested it, the voice wasn't wrong about that. The words had barely been out of her mouth before he'd agreed. Of course I'll go on this trip with you. But that had been because he was the best person for the job, hadn't it?

But there was this question in the back of his mind that kept cropping up. Would he have agreed as fast for anyone else? Or was it because it was Hermione? Was it because he was going to have the opportunity to spend extra time with her? Extra time that had been on short supply as their careers had changed over the years.

He wouldn't have. If it had been anyone else, he would have said no, or offered up one of the trainees. This wasn't a job for a top Auror. This wasn't even a job for a junior Auror.

He'd snagged the chance because it was her.

Because he wanted to come with her.

Harry stumbled back slightly and sat down heavily in the chair, casting an almost panicked look over to where Hermione was still dancing. She'd switched partners and time it was with what looked to be one of the elderly men of the family. Harry watched her face break out into a laugh and she caught his gaze as the old man spun her around, the dress flaring out as she moved.

And Harry's heart skipped a beat.

Or five.

☀☀☀☀☀

The morning brought with it a bright line of sunshine seeping through a small crack between the curtains over the windows to his left. Harry rubbed his eyes and when he got out of bed, pushing the curtains the rest of the way, he saw that three unfamiliar owls sat just on the other side of the glass. All three of them carried small parcels and he couldn't help but grin. He gave the birds a 'one moment' gesture and walked over to where his trousers hung over the chair, grabbing his wand.

Vanishing away the glass—the hotel didn't have a way for the windows to be opened properly—Harry stepped back as the birds dropped their parcels and then flitted around the room before they zoomed away. Harry waved his wand again and the glass reappeared. He stooped to pick up the parcels, all rerouted from the Mexican magical post.

Birthdays seemed to find him anywhere and he smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed to open the little boxes.

Andromeda Tonks had sent a little clay art project that Teddy had made in primary school. There was a small book about the South American Wrackspurt (honestly, Harry, it is quite the threat in Latin America. You should be very careful!) from Luna. The last parcel was elaborately wrapped in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes wrapping paper and proclaimed it was from both Ron and George. Though how that paper got through customs, Harry didn't know, nor did he trust it to not explode purple ink at his face when unwrapped. He put a modified Bubble-head charm around the parcel and then slid his hands into the wobbly shield to unwrap it. 

"Oh you wankers," he said with an exasperated laugh as the paper did indeed explode with a fantastic poof of blue smoke (not purple as he'd expected), leaving behind the tiniest pair of leopard print speedos that Harry had ever seen. A tag on them said "with love from your best mate and his brother. Wear them at the beach in style!"

He tossed the tiny swimsuit aside and grabbed a clean set of clothes, heading to the shower. 

A few minutes later, his hair still dripping, Harry snatched up the brochure about the cenotes that he'd kept from the lobby and headed for the door. A paper, however, fluttered to the floor as he pulled it open. It had been tucked into the crack between the door and where it latched. Picking it up, he started to walk to Hermione's room, but stopped as he began to read the note.

_Harry,_

_Last minute approval of all the paperwork from the Cámara de Magia! Miguel came and we're going now so we could get to Chichen Iza before it opens. I don't know how long this will take. I'm sure you'll find something to do._

_See you soon!  
~Hermione_

Harry's shoulders dropped slightly and he drew in a breath before looking down at the brochure in his hand. All at once the promise of the day seemed to pale and feel a little more grey. He looked once at the door that he'd been about to knock on before turning back to his room, but before he reached it, he stopped. No. No, he wasn't going to sit in the hotel room and stew.

Summoning his wallet and his towel and the pair of swim shorts he'd actually brought (if George and Ron thought he was going to be caught dead in that speedo, they had another thing coming), he headed down to the lobby. A young woman with curly brown hair and bright pink lipstick greeted him from the reception desk.

"Buenos dias, Señor, did you require anything today?" she asked in a tone that was almost too cheerful and a bit strained from having been too cheerful to all the other guests that had preceded Harry.

He put the brochure on the desk. "I'd like to see one of these. Is there... a shuttle I could take?"

And that was how Harry found himself sitting on a rock, his legs dangling in the crystal clear water of the Azul Cenote. He'd swum around for a bit before growing tired of it and changing back into his khakis and linen shirt, opting to just sit on the edge and swish his feet around in the water. Tiny fish just below the surface zipped through the sun-dappled water and every time one darted in to nibble at his skin, Harry wiggled his toes trying to encourage them to go elsewhere. He'd heard of people paying good money for pedicures like this, but it wasn't something he was terribly interested in.

Leaning back, Harry rested his elbows on a raised stone behind him that he was using to prop himself up. There were still a few swimmers left from the original shuttle ride out to the cenote, but most had gotten their fill of the water and the sun, opting to return to the various hotels in the city. Harry considered just apparating, but he didn't exactly know where he was and he wasn't about to splinch himself on his birthday.

So he stayed.

And every time a new shuttle pulled up, he considered leaving, but ended up thinking 'I'll wait for the next one' instead. 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His thoughts spun around at speed that was not as relaxed as he would have liked. He wasn't sure how he was going to proceed now that he recognised the fact that his feelings for Hermione were very much real. She obviously seemed to be very interested in Miguel and his work. It was so very similar to her own work and Harry wasn't sure if he could be That Bloke. She didn't deserve that.

The light on his face darkened as someone moved in front of him. Harry opened his eyes to a plastic plate being held out to him, two forks stuck in the middle of a golden yellow cake topped with a surprisingly unmelted dollop of whipped cream and slices of strawberries.

And was surprised to find that it was Hermione who was the one one presenting it.

"Apologies for the lack of candle," she said, moving to take a seat beside him. "I forgot to bring one in my rush to get here. You'll just have to pretend that you have something you can blow out for a wish."

"How—"

"Just imagine my surprise," she interrupted his question, "when I finally get done for the day, spend an hour waiting at this really popular bakery to get Mama Maria's famous Tres Leches cake for my best friend for his birthday... only to knock on his door and discover he's disappeared." She paused. "The leopard speedos are really not your style, by the by."

"You went into my room?" Harry asked, flushing a bit. He'd forgotten he'd left that bloody thing on the floor. Ron and George were dead to him. Dead.

Hermione gestured to the fork, indicating that he should take a bite, taking hold of the other fork once he'd scooped up the first taste. "Well you weren't answering the knock. And there weren't any cleaning ladies around so I just used _alohomora_ and poked my head in." She popped a forkful of the cake into her mouth. "Clever to use the bubble-head charm to contain that Wheeze explosion. I wouldn't have left the contained smoke sitting in your bathtub. It started to leak and your tub is all stained around the drain now."

The cool, moist cake melted on his tongue and Harry gave her a smile. "I suppose you left it for me to clean up on my own?"

"Naturally," she teased. "I was too busy trying to decide what I was going to do with your cake. What with me not knowing where you had gone." She bumped him with her shoulder. "At least _I_ left a note."

"I didn't think I would be here this long," he said after a long pause. He really didn't have much of an explanation. What would he say? _Sorry, Hermione, I was childishly upset you'd left me alone on my birthday to go do the work that you were originally sent here to do so I stomped off to the place I'd been thinking about asking you to visit with me._

He couldn't say that.

"That's what the lady at the front desk said. She was surprised you hadn't come back with the tour group you'd left with. So I brought the cake to you here."

They sat, finishing off the cake, which was quite possibly one of the best things he'd ever eaten. He licked the back of the fork before setting it down on the empty plate. Hermione glanced around briefly before taking out her wand and vanishing away the trash and then tucked her wand back into her little white purse.

"So is everything done?" he asked after a while, watching as clouds started to roll across the sky. 

"There's just a bit of paperwork, but Miguel said he'd handle that and have it waiting at the front desk for when we check out."

"I guess that means we're heading back on the next flight," Harry said, though he wasn't exactly looking forward to that part.

Hermione got looked off across the water and shrugged a little. "I suppose. Though I would like to stay a bit longer. I thought about writing the Ministry and asking to use a few of my banked vacation days."

A twist of discomfort seemed to settle just under Harry's ribs right above his stomach. Of course she would want to stay a bit longer. She probably wanted to get to know Miguel outside of work. He drew in a breath and looked at his hands, picking at a tiny hangnail on his thumb. He should say something. He should be honest about what he was thinking. What kind of Gryffindor was he with all this hesitation and second guessing. Wasn't this just a both feet first sort of situation?

But it wasn't. It was Hermione That made everything different.

Harry moved to stand, but stopped when Hermione reached out and grabbed his sleeve. She looked at him and he felt like she was half a second away from scolding him.

"You're one of the top Aurors in your department these days, Harry," she said, matter-of-factly. It wasn't a question and Harry could only nod in agreement. "So," she continued, "it stands to reason that you might have been a bit over qualified for this assignment."

"You did say it was important," Harry sat himself down on the stone beside her again. 

"I did. But it wasn't anything that someone fresh out of training couldn't handle." She gave him a smile and Harry only just realised she hadn't let go of his sleeve. "I could have asked anyone, really. But I didn't. I asked _you_ to come with me."

Harry blinked, thinking back to when she'd come into the auror bullpen and marched over to his desk without so much as a second glance to any of the others in the room. He'd even asked her why she would need an escort for something that didn't seem all that dangerous and she'd just given him an off the cuff excuse about how one couldn't be too careful with unknown magic. Which he'd accepted. Because it was Hermione. But he'd wondered about it while he'd bashed about Cancún. Why him? Why hadn't she just picked some green around the edges newbie for such an easy assignment.

"For someone who was so suspicious and observant when it came to Malfoy and Snape's activities at school, you really can be a bit clueless," Hermione said with a smile.

Without letting go of his sleeve, Hermione leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was a tad awkward because He was so flummoxed that he actually forgot to do anything and instantly felt like he was fifteen and had no idea how kisses worked. When she straightened and pulled back, Harry could only seem to gape before a thought began to shove its way to the front of his mind and before he could stop himself, his stupid, _stupid_ mouth blurted out the following words.

"But what about Miguel?"

Instantly he regretted speaking and he wanted to just stand up and throw himself into the water. Perhaps he could find one of the resident caymans to finish him off. That would be a good end, wouldn't it? Even Rita could have fun with an exclusive obituary. Harry Potter, wizard who defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort, eaten by a cayman while simultaneously dying of foot-in-mouth disease.

Hermione tilted her head and Harry swallowed at the way the disappearing sun was hitting the lighter pieces of her hair. She looked at him for a long moment and then suddenly began to laugh.

"Miguel is a lovely man. I quite like him, but honestly he's not really my type," she grinned, rubbing the heel of her hand against her eye while she chuckled. "His _husband_ is also very nice, from what I've heard, and is a seeker on the national quidditch team who very much wants to meet you."

"Husband..." Harry said slowly, all the pieces slotting into place. He slapped his own head. "I'm a bloody idiot."

The enormous confusing weight that had been sitting on his chest all day seemed to vanish in an instant and before Hermione could respond or tease him any further, Harry dragged her close. Her laughter immediately died off and she looked at him, her expression soft. Harry cupped his hand first to her cheek, holding it there for a moment before he slid his fingers to the back of her neck, tangling in the low ponytail of hair that covered the space just at the base of her hairline.

This time the kiss was not a surprise. This time the kiss was entirely in his control for the most part. At least this time the kiss wasn't anything childish or resembling a befuddled trout. She inhaled softly as he brushed his lips against hers and Harry held back from deepening the kiss any further than that, wanting to hold onto the moment the way one would hold onto something delicate like blown glass. One of her hands rested against his upper arm, the other flattening against his chest and he knew she must be able to feel just how hard his heart was pounding.

He drew back slightly, his nose still bumping against hers and was about to say something inordinately stupid about how nothing could ruin his birthday now when a fat drop of water hit the top of his head.

It was then that he looked up to see just how dark the clouds had gotten and glancing around he noticed that most, if not all, of the cenote swimmers had started to pack up their things and head for the waiting shuttles. Harry frowned a little and looked at Hermione as another drop of water hit his head. And then his shoulder. And then his arm.

"I suppose we should head back too," he said, turning to reach for his trainers.

"It's just a bit of rain," Hermione said, turning her face to the sky and blinking a little.

Harry pointed toward the darker clouds that seemed to be rolling toward them. "I'm not sure if it's just a bit of rain."

As if on cue, the skies opened and the deluge began. Harry had been in rainstorms before. Mostly while playing quidditch but also while chasing dark wizards. That rain had been like knives of ice cutting through him and chilling him to the bone. This wasn't. It was wet, as rain should be. But it was tolerable and it was almost warm compared to what he was used to. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Quidditch in rainstorms like this wouldn't be nearly as intolerable as they had been when he was at Hogwarts.

His gaze shifted over to Hermione and for a moment he couldn't seem to find words. 

Trails of rainwater dripped down from her hairline and over her cheeks. He reached out and swiped his thumb across the little drop of water that hung from the tip of her nose. He glanced down at the white purse in her lap, wondering why she hadn't taken out her wand to cast any sort of shielding charm and he opened his mouth to ask her just that. Except his body seemed to have other ideas and he found himself kissing her again.

Kissing Hermione had been an experience that had thrilled him to no end. Kissing Hermione while she now tasted of rainwater and a tiny hint of sugary sweet left from the long gone cake? It was akin to something otherworldly and entirely unexpected. This kiss shifted into something completely different. This kiss was tasting and tongues and a heartbeat that wouldn't stop thundering in his ears.

She drew back suddenly, speaking only just barely above the sound of the rain falling all around them. "We should move..."

Harry's brow furrowed and he looked down and if it hadn't been raining he might have actually burst into flame right then and there. Without realising, his hand had moved from its comfortable spot near her waist, up her torso and found its final resting place cupping her breast. He moved to snatch it away, his cheeks going so hot that he swore they were probably steaming.

 _Good move, Potter_ , he thought. _Grope her after three kisses. Smooth as fuck, aren't you?_

And to make matters worse, his nagging voice sounded like _Malfoy_ of all people.

Harry groaned and covered his face with his hand. "Erm. Sorry. Lost in the moment."

Hermione got to her feet and held out her hand. When he didn't immediately take it, she nudged his thigh with her toe until he finally grabbed hold and stood, closing his eyes and waiting for the next sight to be the hotel corridor. But instead of the pull of apparition, Harry only felt his arm being tugged and he stumbled forward, his eyes flying open as he realised that she was just pulling him toward the trees and not getting ready to travel back to the city. Raising his arm to shield his glasses, which really was no use now as they were already spotted with water and the rain wasn't giving any indication of letting up, Harry followed her. 

The moment they seemed to be just out of sight behind some large leafy tropical bushes that he didn't know the name of, Hermione turned to face him. But instead of talking, instead of explaining, she just flung her arms around his shoulders and kissed him again. Harry took a step back, almost falling at the sudden movement, his arms coming around her to keep them both from tumbling to the ground and every inch of her rain-soaked body pressing against his seemed to awaken something inside of him that wanted a lot more than just kisses. He tried to shift back so that it wasn't so obvious to her and his movement caused her to stop kissing him directly. Instead she began to trail kisses along his jaw and the little spot on his neck directly below his ear.

"Wouldn't it be silly," she said, speaking just above the sound of the rain now hitting all the wide leaves around them, "if we went through all the hoops of awkward dating at this point?"

Harry looked at her for a moment before she cut from his line of sight as his eyes rolled back slightly at the sensation of her fingertip drawing a line over the shell of his ear and up into the dripping strands of his hair. Where had she learnt that? Where had she learned that that little motion would make his knees buckle? This was _Hermione_ and even though he was thoroughly attracted to her and kissing her was making his drenched khaki shorts feel unimaginably tight around his groin, it was still Hermione and what if this ruined everything about their friendship?

A coy little smile tugged at the corner of Hermione's mouth, lips a bit swollen from the previous kisses. Harry found himself unable to make excuses as three of her fingers pressed to his mouth, silencing him. 

"Overthinking things is supposed to be my thing," she teased, dropping her hand from his mouth to his chest and plucked at a few of the top buttons of his shirt.

"Aren't you worried about..."

"Changing things between us?" she asked. When he nodded, she shook her head. "I decided I wasn't going to worry about it anymore and judging from the way you've been kissing me back, I don't think I need to really worry all that much, do I?"

Harry smiled. "I suppose not."

She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt before letting go and smoothing out the wrinkles she'd caused in the wet fabric. Then lifting her eyes, she met his gaze and the expression on her face caused Harry's throat to go dry despite all the water falling around them. He felt suddenly quite parched.

"Kiss me," Hermione instructed with a firm but slightly teasing tone. "And keep kissing me. And if things move beyond kissing..." She paused, her hand finding his and bringing it to her waist. "Don't overthink it."

Instructions were good. Harry was good with instructions. Dipping his head he kissed her soundly, his arms winding around her and holding her close. Hermione's hand didn't move from the front of his chest, caught between their bodies and her fingertips pushed at the buttons she could reach. Her mouth parted just as her free hand found the bottom of his shirt that had come untucked from his shorts and Harry groaned as her palm pressed against the small of his back.

It had been easy, at first, to overthink things. But the warmth of her palm against his skin caused all the thoughts to be diverted elsewhere. And lower.

Harry caught the soft flesh of her lower lip between his teeth and the sound she made in the back of her throat made any further objection to what might come next completely disappear. The only thing that remained in his head were three small words. Not _those_ small words. Those words, of course, were important. But it was another three words that flashed brightly and repeatedly inside of him.

He wanted her.

He wanted her.

He wanted _her_

And he wanted her now.

And judging by the way she was suddenly working at the remaining buttons on his shirt, he suspected that she wanted him the same way.

Harry made quite a few discoveries in such a short amount of time. The first being that he seemed to enjoy the idea of semi-public sex. No immediate objections came to mind at the idea that the rain could stop and the tourists could return or the men who had been supervising the visitors could just push aside a few leaves to find the pair of them in a state of semi-undress. He also discovered that he rather enjoyed Hermione taking the lead. He let her peel away his wet shirt and undo his khakis. He let her plant kisses across his chest and shoulder. He let her slip her hand into his shorts and stroke him until he was sure he would come like a teenager in a mess all over her hand before they'd even gotten to the good part.

He also discovered that he liked being shown just exactly where to touch her to make her whole body seem to quake.

He also discovered that fiddling with all the extra bits of clothing when it was pouring rain and everything was wet from both the rain and ... other things... was more of a challenge than he'd expected. But soon her capris were off and somewhere in the mud and her knickers were dangling around one ankle from a leg he'd raised up over his hip.

Pushing her up against a tree, the rain coming down all around them, Harry slid his mouth across hers, tasting rainwater and her and cake and maybe the ocean and what might actually be heaven, he wasn't sure. Hermione reached down and guided his cock, his own hands otherwise occupied with holding her legs and keeping her from falling over. Balance was important when you were trying to have sex in the rain with only a tree as a brace. 

But once he was inside, Harry saw _stars_. He hadn't expected it to feel like this. He knew what sex felt like. But he hadn't ever known what sex with _Hermione_ would fell like. It hadn't even crossed his mind until now, until he realised just how much he had always wanted this. Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, lifting herself just a little as Harry began to move.

The sensations were both new and old at the same time. Her body was warm around him and the cool rain contrasted all of that giving his skin a bit of a chill that fought with the sweat and fire that seemed to boil inside of him. She made these breathy little sounds that he could barely hear and soon her hand was dropping down between their bodies, moving and touching and her thighs shook and it was so damn sexy to watch her contribute to her own orgasm that Harry lost himself and almost collapsed to the ground as he came against her fluttering body.

Resting his forehead against hers, Harry sucked in a few deep breaths before he slowly let go of her thigh and let it slip to the ground. 

They didn't speak when it was over. Harry rearranged his khakis and snatched up a few of the other discarded clothes while Hermione dug around in her little white purse until she found her wand. The next thing he knew they were standing in the middle of his hotel room, dripping water on the floor and leaving dirty footprints on the carpet. But there was no grabbing towels and awkwardly drying off. Instead they ended up falling into the bed and after another round she curled against his bare chest, drawing circles on his skin. His hand copied the movement on her thigh peeking out from beneath the tangled sheet.

"I didn't get to explore the cenote with you," Harry remarked after a long silence, bringing his hand from her thigh to the damp hairs that were curling around her cheek.

"Too true," Hermione said, her eyes closing at his touch. "I really should contact the Ministry and request those extra days." She peeked at him and her fingers began walking down the middle of his chest. They paused at the dip of his naval. "There is so much I haven't had a chance to explore."

Harry looked at her for a long moment before cracking one of the widest smiles he'd smiled in a long time. "I'd better inform the DoMLE of the extra time needed. I wouldn't want to bring shame to the department by just leaving you by yourself. Unprotected and all."

Hermione propped herself up on her elbow. "You really think they're going to buy that I can't protect myself?"

Harry shook his head. "No. No they won't. But that's the official excuse I'm putting to paper."

"Three days?" Hermione asked, pushing the sheets aside and moving to straddle his thighs, her hands lightly exploring every inch of his waist and chest.

Harry grabbed her around the waist and rolled them so that she was now beneath him, pressed into the mattress. He kissed her. "A week. At the very least."


End file.
